Dark Day Redux
by Mrs Dionysius O'Gall
Summary: It's Luke's Dark Day, 2005. While doing what he does that day, he is visited by three ghosts. My apologies to Charles Dickens.
1. Prologue

November 30, 2005

Lorelai had been dreading this day, yet planning for it just the same. Luke's Dark Day had been a revelation to her the previous year. In one sense, she liked the idea that he too could wallow, albeit in his own way. But he was the person she held closest to her heart after Rory, and his pain was also her pain. She would do anything to help him.

So this year, she resolved to make his Dark Day as easy as possible for him. She awoke at an uncharacteristically early hour and went into the garage. Next to the boat, she placed a thermos of boiling water, some teabags, a mug, and a box of those healthy cardboard-tasting crackers he loved. And a note: "You are not in this alone. Lorelai."

It seemed that Luke had been building up to his Dark Day for a few weeks. Since before Thanksgiving, he'd been increasingly distant and moody. Lorelai, remembering that he needed time to process, let him be, assuming his dark mood would lift after the sun set on his Dark Day.

Lorelai herself planned on spending the Dark Day with Rory, who was taking the day off work. They planned to scout out wedding locations and then kick off the Christmas season by savoring a lovely treat: a bootleg copy a friend of Rory's had videotaped of Patrick Stewart's one-man 'A Christmas Carol'. Both girls loved the movie, and loved Patrick Stewart, and what a treat it would be to see this play! One of Marty's friends had seen the new stage version in London and secretly taped it from the front row. Its illicit nature made Lorelai even more excited about seeing the play.

And so, evening came, and found the girls in the living room, which still had its new-paint aura.

"Mom! I love the new fireplace!" Rory told Lorelai as she reached to the coffee table and grabbed a fistful of potato chips. Her effusiveness was interrupted by Luke's quiet shuffling as he entered the kitchen through the back door.

Rory whispered: "Should we ask him to join us?"

"No, sweetie," Lorelai responded. "Remember that his Dark Day lasts 'til midnight and you might as well call Luke 'Scrooge' today..."

"Bah humbug with a backwards baseball cap," Rory giggled, glancing towards the kitchen to make sure Luke hadn't heard her.

Meanwhile, as the girls listened to Patrick Stewart's sonorous stage voice, Luke went back out to the garage. He gathered his jacket around him to ward off the chill and climbed into the boat. Unlike previous years, his thoughts today had not been wholly consumed by his father, but more by April.

He reached into his pocket and fingered Lorelai's note. He still had no plan for how he was going to broach the subject with Lorelai. She still was so happy about Rory. Yet, it had already been almost a month. Thanksgiving had come and gone and then...Christmas. Would April expect a Christmas gift? Would she shrug one off, or be disappointed if he didn't get her anything. Did he need to send her a dozen gifts to make up for all the Christmases he'd missed?

Bah, humbug! he thought, irritated. Geez, were the girls watching Captain Picard?

Bah humbug indeed. What would he do if Anna did allow him to see April for Christmas? How would he explain things to Lorelai? Surely she'd want to spend time with Rory and him as a...family? He made a mental note to figure out the best way to get together with everyone for the holiday. How had his life become such a mess? Geez, his dad would never have ended up in this kind of mess... 


	2. Three Ghosts

Early Evening

It was getting dark now; midnight but a few hours away. Luke climbed into the boat and slumped against the walls of the boat's hull. He dozed off...wondering if Lorelai and Rory were done with their movie night. Finally, the numbing cold got to him and he dozed off completely.

Was that a raccoon? A scritch-scratching sound caught his attention. The garage door, which of course never did close because of the boat, creaked and shook. Luke bolted upright as the boat shook from side to side. What the...? "Dad?"

Luke rubbed his eyes. His father seemed to be standing in the garage entrance, half shrouded in pink and half shrouded in blue. This could not be...why was his father here? He'd been gone for so long...As Luke rubbed his eyes again, his father moved towards him. He began to shake. "Dad?" he whispered, and rubbed his head. He must have bumped it against the side of the boat, or else inhaled too many fumes from the varnish he was using to seal the wood...or maybe those crazy colors Lorelai had painted the garage with were finally warping his brain...

But...it...he...was still there, still coming towards him!

Luke's face involuntarily broke out into a grin. "Dad!" he whispered with more animation.

His father turned to face him, with that manly, yet oh-so-kind and loving face Luke remembered so well.

"Who...who are you?" Luke asked, his voice trembling.

"Ask me who I was," the figure replied.

"Who are you then?" Luke replied, agitated.

"In life, Luke, I was your father."

"Do you...do you remember the boat?" Luke asked, looking up hopefully at him, the look on his face exactly the same as the look he'd had as a ten-year-old seeking his dad's approval.

"Ah, my boat," replied the figure, coming closer and reaching out a gossamer hand, running it along the outside of the boat.

"Do you want--can you come in here with me?" Luke responded, a sense of wonder in his voice.

"That I can, son, that I can." And the figure drifted up as if it was a cloud, up over the edge of the boat, and suddenly it was seated next to Luke.

"I've missed you...Dad..." Luke continued.

"Son, what the hell are you doing with yourself?" the figure purporting to be his father boomed, a scowl now on its face.

"Wha...What do you mean?"

"You're screwin' up your life, son," his father intoned.

"I don't..."

"Son, you're sitting here in a cold garage when over there," his father shrugged in the direction of the house, "is happiness, light and warmth."

"It's my Dark Day..." Luke responded.

"And that honors me how? To know that you have the most wonderful thing a man could want, but are pushing it away?" the figure told him. "You're not living, son."

"But I don't deserve..."

"And what about my little granddaughter?"

Luke looked at the figure in surprise, took off his baseball cap, ran his arm over his forehead, and sighed.

"Of course I know of her," his father replied. "But never mind that; I've come to tell you something."

The figure then stood, tall and proud, in the center of the boat.

"Wait!" Luke whispered. "What do you mean?"

"You are blessed with a love you don't seem to want!" the figure proclaimed. "I thought your mother and I taught you well, we showed you well, but apparently..."

"But I love Lorelai..." Luke countered.

"Yet, you cannot see that she is worthy of your trust and that you are worthy of her love. Therefore, you shall be haunted,'' he resumed, "by three ghosts.''

Inadvertently, Luke guffawed. "Dad, tell me that what you just said isn't true...It's just not possible! There are no such things as ghosts."

"Then what am I?" the figure responded. "Anyhow, time to go. The day is almost over."

"Stay, Dad, please..." Luke pleaded.

"Son, I cannot stay, at least not this way. But know this: that I am with you always. You do not need a Dark Day to remember me by."

"I kept the Williams Hardware sign..." Luke whispered.

"I know, son, I know...but you must listen to me. Do not cling to the past. If you listen to me, you have a chance to be happy."

"Will you come back?"

"What, and haunt you?" the figure laughed. "No. This is the one and only time you will see me. But remember, you do not need my help. You have the best help anyone could hope for, if you would only let her."

The figure repeated: "Remember what I have told you: the choice is clear but it is yours to make. And kiss that granddaughter of mine for me."

With that, the figure floated again up and over the side of the boat, still hued in pink and blue. Luke leaned over the edge of the boat, and found nothing but the oil-stained floor of the garage. He climbed out of the boat, opened the garage door, and saw nothing but the lights of the neighborhood. Turning towards the house, he noticed that the lights were still shining bright on the ground floor of the house. Movie night must still be going on. He turned back to the garage, picked up a rag, and began polishing the boat again. 


	3. Louie, Louie

One hour later

That sure was a weird dream, Luke thought. It was getting colder, but the Dark Day was not yet over. Luke still had a beer left, so he decided to indulge in one last one. The cold and the alcohol combined to lull him back to sleep.

Again, the same scritch-scratch sound stirred him from his nap. What the...? Another figure stood before him.

"Lucas Danes, Lukey Luke," called an eerily familiar voice from just in front of the boat.

Luke jumped up, twice actually, as he recognized the figure as none other than his late Uncle Louie.

"Uncle Louie?" he asked quickly. "But you're..."

"Dead and buried next to your ole' Dad," the figure told him.

Luke looked at the figure with more care. Yep, it definitely looked like Uncle Louie...and wait, was that a Revolutionary War uniform he was sporting? Damned if it wasn't...Luke shook his head.

"So kid," the figure asked, "you really wanna end up like me?"

"What do you mean?" Luke replied.

"Ya said it yourself, kid. Didn't have any wife or kids to look out for things. Had to rely on others to look out for me. Which reminds me, hubba hubba! That was quite a piece of ass you had with you at my funeral."

Luke looked up, shocked.

"Anyway, here's the deal," the figure continued. "I gotta show you something." He moved, or rather floated, closer to Luke, and as he did so, baseball cards seemed to flutter from his uniform pockets. "It seems that that brother of mine decided that I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."

"You're kidding, Uncle Louie. You gotta be kidding," answered Luke.

"As I live, well, sort of, and breathe," the figure replied. "Stand up, boy, and come over here."

He motioned to the shelf in the back of the garage, which had an old TV set Luke used to follow his favorite ball games when working on the boat.

Before Luke could even protest, he found himself standing in front of the TV. It was turned on, tuned to some oldies station.

"You remember this scene?" said the figure.

"Remember it...I think of it a lot." For the scene playing on the TV screen was almost thirty years in the past. It was a Christmas scene. A beautiful woman--his Mom!--was admiring a little girl's doll. "Liz!" he whispered.

Suddenly, a boy bounded into the room. This boy was strangely attired, wearing a Spock-blue Star Trek shirt.

"Merry Christmas, Luke honey," the woman on the screen warmly said, beckoning him over for a reluctant kiss.

"Live Long and Prosper, Mom," the boy replied, as he gave her a Vulcan salute and then stiffly asked her if she would open his present.

"Yep, that's you," the figure purporting to be Uncle Louie stated, "and you always thought I was weird for doing the reenactment stuff. At least THAT really happened..."

Luke glared at him, then turned his attention back to the TV. He reached out and traced the outline of his mother's face. For the first time this Dark Day, he felt comforted as he watched his childhood self interact with his mom that long-ago, happy Christmas morning.

"My family, all together," Luke affirmed. "Before Mom..." he choked, "died. Before Dad got sick. Before Liz went nuts..."

His family looked so happy. The scene was noisy, joyous and celebratory; Christmas carols played on the old stereo, and Liz was chattering away, his dad contributing off-screen to the chatter.

Just then, the figure reached out and changed the channel.

"Hey Uncle Louie, what the hell are you doing?" Luke cried out.

The figure smirked and said, "Your dad says I needs to show you Christmas at another house, that same year."

And Luke turned back to the screen, and saw the Gilmore Mansion. He shuddered, recalling the bad memories that place held for him.

On screen, the mansion door silently swung open, and Luke saw a living room with a very beautiful tree. A group of adults stood in one corner, politely laughing and chitchatting. In another corner, on a ramrod-straight chair, sat a beautiful little girl, dressed in an expensive-looking, very frou-frou dress.

"Lorelai..." Luke whispered.

"Yes indeedy, it's that luscious thing you brought to my funeral," the figure verified.

The little girl sat quietly, hands folded in her lap, eyes downcast. Her Christmas bounty was stacked in the corner, enough gifts to bestow upon a Third-World nation's orphans, Luke thought.

Watching the scene, Luke realized that this was a Christmas in deeds only, not in spirit. The carefully orchestrated Christmas music played discreetly in the background, and every time the little girl tried to play with her toys, a maid would come over and return them to the pile.

Suddenly, an impish little boy appeared in the room, running over to the little girl.

"Come Lor, let's play hide and seek," he said.

A sensation of doom swept over Luke. This was, he knew without a doubt, Christopher. He watched as little Lorelai took little Christopher's hand, and for the first time that Christmas, smiled. It tugged at Luke's heart, knowing that she had such an unhappy childhood. For the first time, he felt a measure of sympathy and gratefulness for Christopher, and an appreciation for the long history the two shared.

"She loves ya, you know, not him," the figure claiming to be his Uncle proclaimed, taking Luke out of his reverie.

"Lorelai..." Luke whispered.

"Why the hell you want to end up like me, beats me, when you've got someone like her..." the figure stated.

"But I don't..."

"Then why the hell are you acting like me? Scowling, shutting her out, not talking to her..."

"I've got a kid, Uncle Louie..." Luke whispered.

"And? So what? Didn't you build her a hoop-de-hoop, and help fix things around her house without being asked, and make a special coffee cake with balloons for her girl's sixteenth birthday?

"How do you know..." Luke asked.

"I know. But what I don't know is why you won't accept her comfort. You think it was fun dying alone? You think it was fun having you of all people stuff my body in my coffin? You need her. You think she's the only needy one, but boy, you need her." Then, without warning, the figure claiming to be Uncle Louie said, "Geez Louise, now I've actually been nicer than I ever was when I was alive. Gotta go, kid."

"Uncle..."

And he was gone.

"Dad," Luke whispered, "I sure hope you've been kicking his butt around wherever it is you both are." 


	4. Closer to Midnight

Some time later

I must be dreaming, Luke thought. Uncle Louie. He heard some static, and realized that the television set in the garage was on; only it was tuned to a non-existent station and was all staticky.

He turned it off, and decided to walk outside for a bit. He looked off into the distance, towards the Town Square. He decided to walk on over to the diner. As if in slow motion, he entered it and saw none other than...Kirk. Only Kirk looked really really strange, kind of shrouded in steam.

"Come in!" the shrouded Kirk exuberantly exclaimed, "I've been waiting for you!"

Luke was speechless, but then was able to eke out a strangled "Kirk?"

"Have a seat," the shrouded figure said, kicking a chair towards him.

Luke sat down on the chair, cautiously, as if afraid that the chair was not solid.

"By the way, this is really cool," the figure proclaimed, "I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. Check me out!"

Luke raised his eyes, and saw that Kirk indeed was sitting there, and definitely not wearing a shirt. He was clad in a towel, with what could only be steam surrounding him.

"You look like you've seen me like this before," the shrouded figure stated.

"Well, actually..." Luke began, remembering the time he bargained for the Twickham House with the town elders in a steam room.

Geez, this must all be a figment of my imagination, Luke thought, shaking his head.

The Kirk-Ghost of Christmas Present then stood, and said, "Let's go upstairs, man."

Luke looked at him like he was crazy. "If you think I'm going up to my apartment with a naked guy in a towel, then you've got another thing coming, Kirk."

"Oh, OK." And the figure reached behind him and put on a Santa Claus coat. "Better?"

Luke rolled his eyes.

"Look, whatever you need to show me, let's get this over with quick."

They climbed the stairs, and when they reached the doorway to the apartment, the figure stopped and said, "Just take a peek."

Luke looked into his apartment. It was devoid of all decorations. He saw himself slumped in his chair, a beer in one hand and a scowl on his face. He hadn't shaved in...weeks, it seemed, and was that a somewhat ripe odor he detected? Geez, you'd think he was Howard Hughes from the way the room looked...

Suddenly, the phone rang. Luke saw himself get up and answer the phone. As he picked it up, the caller hung up without speaking. The shrouded figure walked over to the phone and checked the caller ID. "Nardini," he said.

"April," Luke whispered.

"Actually, it's November," the figure that looked like steamy-Kirk responded.

Luke just continued to stare at the sight of himself, alone, on Christmas. Morose, sad, alone.

"My instructions were to show you another scene," the figure continued.

Before Luke could react, the figure did the hand-waving/dream sequence motions from 'Wayne's World', complete with sound effects, and Luke found himself looking into his apartment once more, but this time seeing Lorelai's home.

Luke was taken aback, because the house seemed warm, inviting and Christmassy, but the people in the house seemed sad. He saw Sookie in the kitchen, stuffing a giant goose with some sort of chestnut concoction. Jackson sat at the new kitchen table, feeding his tiny daughter, and flicking the occasional Cheerio at Davey. The Gilmore Girls themselves, Lorelai and Rory, were nowhere to be seen.

"I think she's upstairs," the Kirk-figure whispered conspiratorially, and suddenly Luke saw Lorelai, laying in her bed, in tears. Rory was holding her, rocking her in her arms.

Luke could not bear to watch this scene. Why were they so unhappy on Christmas?

"She was happy when you were together," the figure told him. "But you didn't tell her some big secret, and then she found out, and...

"I thought it would ruin everything," Luke told him. "She was so happy."

"What she needs from you is not your perfection, Luke," the shrouded figure replied. "Heck, if Lula can put up with me..."

"But how can she be happy if I have a kid?" Luke asked.

"You have a kid?" the shrouded figure excitedly exclaimed! "Wait 'til Ms. Patty finds out...oh boy, and Babette? Finally! Finally I'm gonna have the scoop on something..."

Luke shot him a despairing glance.

"Man, she loves you. You're her family now. Just like Rory is like your kid, Lorelai will love yours too. But you gotta tell her, man, you gotta say something. Don't let your insecurities keep you from what you could have."

"She's in love with me. I don't know why," Luke whispered, looking again at the distraught scene in the bedroom.

"So, do you think Lulu's happy with me?" the Kirk-figure asked him.

"Shut up, Kirk," Luke replied.

And suddenly, he found himself on the steps of the diner. 


	5. Mama Knows Best

Very Close to Midnight

A light snow was falling, as Luke shook the flakes from his head and drowsily looked at the scene in front of him.

Lorelai did have a point, he reluctantly admitted. Snow could be beautiful. In the darkness, the town lights twinkled like stars. Of course, Taylor's establishments had the most ostentatious lighting, but all in all, the postcard-perfect setting made Luke long for the comforts of home.

He stood up, ready to return to the boat in the garage, but was startled when a woman rounded the corner of the diner and stood before him. Blinking the snow from his eyelashes, Luke noticed that the woman was wearing a hooded cloak, and seemed to be surrounded by fog.

Slowly, the womanly figure raised her head and lifted her hands to the hood of her cloak. Even more slowly, her thin hands brushed the cloak from her face.

Luke gasped. "Mom?"

The cloaked figure slowly nodded, and Luke thought he saw tears in her eyes. The sense of comfort Luke had experienced upon seeing his mother earlier that evening in the scene from his childhood returned to him ten-fold.

"Mom," he repeated, almost reverently, reaching out to try to touch her.

"Yes, my dear son, but tonight I am also your Ghost of Christmas Future," the figure affirmed.

"Mom," Luke repeated, sinking to his knees.

The figure reached out, and softly drew her cloak around Luke. "I loved you so much, my son. I'm so sorry I had to leave you." She caressed his head, then remembered her purpose.

"Stand, Luke, and come with me," she said.

The two walked over towards the gazebo. The fog that had surrounded the woman followed them. As they approached the gazebo, Luke noticed that there was someone there. He suddenly recalled an earlier summer evening, when he and Lorelai had shooed away the bicyclists and sealed their engagement with a kiss.

Luke could see a woman standing in the gazebo. Lorelai! But this Lorelai was a lot older; with a beautiful gray streak in her hair, but a face lined and worn. She stood in the gazebo and was crying.

"Son, she no longer celebrates the holidays she loves," the womanly figure next to him stated.

By now, the anvils the other ghosts had dropped on him had finally made an impression on Luke. "It's because of me, because I didn't trust her and drove her away," he simply stated.

"And look over there..." the figure that had been his mother commanded.

Across the square, by the Twickham House, a teenage girl in a strange helmet rode up and down the street on a bicycle.

"April."

"My granddaughter," the figure stated matter-of-factly.

"What's she doing?" Luke asked.

"She's looking for you. Only you've left town."

"Oh."

Luke looked from the scene of Lorelai to the scene of April, despair filling his heart. Each was lost in her own way.

"Does it have to be like this?" he plaintively asked.

"I know I raised you better than that, my son. I think you know the answer to that question."

"Mom, I've missed you so much..." Luke replied.

"You've done so much good in your life, Luke," she said. "You took care of my grandson when no one else could. You've honored your mother and father in life and in death. Because of this, I will show you indeed that it doesn't have to be this way."

Luke didn't know how, but somehow, they found themselves in front of Lorelai's house. It sure looked like movie night was still going strong. But then Luke realized that it couldn't be movie night, for the home was fully decked out in Christmas décor. Happy sounds came from the house, music intermixed with chatter and laughter, intermixed with a barking dog.

Suddenly, a small car drove up and parked next to the jeep. A door opened, and a young teenage girl ran out, carrying presents. Luke watched her run to the door and ring the bell.

"Rory!" he heard her exclaim, as he watched Rory open the door.

"April! Merry Christmas" Rory replied.

Then, Lorelai appeared at the door, hugged and greeted April, and then stepped outside. She didn't seem to see Luke or his companion as she walked over to the car next to the jeep.

"Won't you come in, Anna," he heard her say.

"Oh that's so nice of you to ask. I've been dying to see the twins."

"They are a handful, alright. Gotta tell ya, it really is a lot harder to do this at forty than at sixteen!"

"Lorelai...we have kids?" Luke whispered. Lorelai looked older, to be sure, but also much happier and, he noted, she was definitely not as thin as she had recently been. His eyes followed the two women as they returned to the house.

He stealthily crept closer to the house, walked up the steps and peered into a window.

A Christmas celebration was in full swing. Rory and April were looking at some book, and Lorelai was ensconced on the sofa, smiling over at...him. He had less hair, but the two tiny babies resting on his chest made him appear younger. Suddenly both Rory and April were sitting between Lorelai and him, giggling, laughing, smiling, teaching Paul Anka tricks. Anna was in the foyer, speaking to a man with a school-age girl. Gigi and Christopher?

"Dinner's ready," he heard, and Sookie's head peered around the corner.

"Your choice, my son. I know you will make the right one," the Ghost of Christmas Future proclaimed. "You've already done the hardest part, Luke darling. Choosing the right woman. I know I would have loved her to death." 


	6. Lou Gehrig's Rookie Card

Midnight...and December 1, 2005

With a jolt, Luke awoke for the final time that night. Suddenly, he realized that his Dark Day was over, and that it was within his power to make a choice. He could keep going as he had in the past, or he could change his Dark Day. He could share it with those who loved him, maybe even make it a special day when he could share his memories with his daughter.

His daughter. Luke knew what he had to do. Tell Lorelai, and now. Because that was the only way he would have a future worth living, and babies and jam hands and April and Rory, and most of all, Lorelai.

He left the garage, ran to the house, and opened the door. He was no longer afraid.

Lorelai had waited up for him. She sprang up, running to him, and embraced him. "You are not in this alone," she whispered as she peppered his face with kisses.

"I know," Luke replied, and kissed her for courage. "Lorelai, I need to tell you something. Can we talk?"

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"More than alright, but there is something I have to tell you."

Lorelai looked at him, eyes serious, but encouraging.

"Do I need to sit down?" she nervously asked.

"Yes."

"Will I be upset?"

"Yes."

"Are you leaving me?"

"No."

Lorelai sighed loudly, took his hand and led him into the kitchen.

"Lorelai, I need to tell you something...something I should've told you when I first found out. But Rory had just come home, and I didn't want..."

"Shh. Just tell me now," she replied.

"I have a kid."

There was silence.

"Nicole?" Lorelai finally responded.

"Dear God, no, not with her. It actually happened about twelve years ago, before we met..."

"Did you know?"

"Of course not!"

"Of course not," she reiterated. "Tell me..."

And they talked for a long time.

-  
Two AM, December 1, 2005

"Listen, Lorelai, I know this is a lot of stuff to absorb. I just want you to know that I want to be with you...spend the rest of my life with you...if you'll still have me," he gingerly said, reaching across the table for her hand, rubbing his index finger across the ring.

"Wait a second, Mr. Backwards Baseball Cap," she pouted, "I seem to remember that I'm the one who proposed, and I don't recall rescinding the proposal!"

"I just want to make sure that...with April...and all...I won't have as much time to spend with you and..."

"Oh Luke," she sighed, "I may be crazy, but I am not giving you up." She stood and went to him, and wrapped her arms around him. She held on to him tightly, pressing kisses up and down his jawline. "You'll have to give me some time to get used to this new development," she told him, punctuating her words with kisses, "but I'm still in. All in."

"There are a hundred ways I could screw this relationship up," Luke told her, "but I am all in too."

"We'll make it work. Come, let's go to bed. Rory's been asleep for a couple of hours already."

"Let me hang my jacket up first," Luke said.

As Luke hung his jacket up in the foyer, he reached into his pocket. Pulling out the note that Lorelai had left him for his Dark Day, he was surprised to find more in his pocket than he thought he'd had. Out came Lou Gehrig's rookie card. Luke shook his head.

"Uncle Louie?" he whispered in amazement, and climbed up the stairs to live his future. 


End file.
